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Sleeping With Enemy

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Libra INFJ <handfullofbraids@[sign in to see URL]>
Date: Thu, May 10, 2018 at 1:18 AM
Subject: Sleeping With The Enemy
To: blkamrwe@[sign in to see URL]

Dear Permission To Exist,

Thank you for your channel and I apologize, for the lengthy letter in advance. At the moment, my life is a whirlwind. I'm a mother of three and I’m fighting to keep my sanity. My home is currently in foreclosure. The house is in my name but my husband stopped making payments when I left him last year. My two oldest children suffer from low self-esteem and social anxiety. My youngest son is 12 yrs old and has ASD. Last week, I was called to his school because he threatened to kill himself. My new car was just repossessed ( it was supposed to be paid off). I work from home as a hairstylist and stay at home mom. Last year, I resigned as a tennis instructor with the city. I really enjoyed working as an instructor but my husband said that I should get a real career. My husband is drug dealer.

My Childhood:
As a toddler, my sister and I were placed into foster at age 2 and 3. I'm the oldest by one year. My foster parents have passed away. My father served in the Army. They were both, retired high school educators. My father was patient, kind and quiet for the most part. My mother was fussy and demanding. They both demanded excellence in academics. I was an honor student almost my entire life. They were very strict and because of their age they didn’t go out much. So we stayed home all the time. When we first arrived at their home, we couldn't speak. Then made it their mission to teach us to communicate, they taught us religion ( Baptist and Catholic church). They also taught us to write, read, complete chores, garden, manners, how to ride bikes and in general; how be a productive citizen. However, they showed little affection and we never said I love you's. They explained to us that they didn't want us to become attached to them, in case we were adopted on day. So we didn’t say those words. We were never adopted and eventually moved into a group home because my foster parents said they were getting too old to care for us.

My biological mother was deaf & dumb and became pregnant at age 15. Her parents put her out and she became a prostitute. She would work in our apartment and one night she offered to sell me to a “John”. The John reported her to the police. I was told by my foster mother that my "real mother" never wanted me. My foster mom would say cruel things like that all the time.

I still remember that night like it was yesterday. I was seven and began talking and writing and asking questions. I would write my mother messages to read and say I love you to her. She would shake her head no and huff at me in [sign in to see URL], she would write back and say I love you back. I wanted to be loved so badly. We always sat inside the house and I wanted to go play. She loved my sister (because she had lighter skin) and was always kind to her whenever she’d visit. However, my sister was very sick and didn’t always come. I determined early in life that my mother didn’t know what love was. I knew love because I loved her even when she refused to love me. Even when she tried to kill me, I still loved her. I realized I had to take care for myself so I wouldn't end up like my mother. Empty and unstable. I could feel her pain and even though she couldn’t talk. I could hear her rage whenever she’d muscle a scream because she couldn’t talk. Needless to say, I told my caseworker about her attempt to kill me (she pushed me in front of a bus) but it stopped. I never had unsupervised visits again.

Our foster parents were very overprotective and isolated us from the world. We never participated in extracurricular activities or sports. We eventually were placed into a group home when I turned 14.

Transitioning Into Adulthood..
I met my husband at 17. He was everything, a poster child of excellence. He excelled in sports and academics. He was loving and charming and became my world. He told me that was raised by his grandmother when he was younger. She passed away. His dad coached him in basketball as a kid. His mom allowed him lots of freedom and rarely disciplined him. He broke curfew constantly but always be back at my place the next day. I would marvel at his magician-like skills with his family and others. He seemed normal enough.

Initially, I didn’t plan to go to college. I planned to move away from Florida (after aging out of the system) and find a profession that catered to my talents. I love to sing, cook, garden, write music and poetry. I was looking forward to being free and exploring the world on my own. I was ready, if nothing else, to become a journalist and capture all of my expeditions. I fantasized about being an anchor woman on the nightly news. Ultimately, he asked me to apply to college with him, I studied for the SAT and I got in.

We moved away together. He didn’t take his first year of college very seriously and ended up falling short of completing his BA degree after 6 years of business school. He said he'd return and get the credits later. I said that’s fine.
I became pregnant my second year of college, dropped out and began to work. My husband continued to go to school but refused to work until he was out of college.

Fast Fwd:
In 2008, however, he decided to become a drug dealer. I told him I didn't want to do it or do anything illegal to earn a living. We we both working with the state and were making a combined income of $70K. We had 3 young kids by this time. I was comfortable with our life. He didn’t listen to my pleas. He eventually bought into the notion; after seeing loads of cash inside a dealers car. He said he wasn't living the lifestyle he wanted to live and he’d rather buy a home instead of renting. He became a dealer anyway.

After he started dealing, he became withdrawn and frequently was never around. Whenever he was home, he was quiet and sullen. I would ask him to talk but he’d become hostile so I wouldn’t bother him. I worried that it was his profession. We were making money but he wasn’t happy whenever I was around. We would have parties throughout the week and late into the night. I hated the parties. I felt neglected, battered and empty.

In 2010, we bought a home. In 2012 we got married. Things got worse.

Whenever I would voice my concerns he'd dismiss them, flip the story, say I'm overreacting, require that I state facts and began to bombard the conversation with questions and insults. He became two different people. Publicly he was a sweet, loving husband and father. Privately, he was a thug with a childish attitude and horrible anger issues. He blamed his behavior on his profession. He began to withhold sex and became more verbally and emotionally abusive. As I write this letter, I can't believe I've been so foolish.

A couple years passed and I felt as if we had drifted apart and I decided to try harder. I told him that I'd like to help him hustle. Hopefully, if we worked together as a team, it would expedite the process. I was earning $27K per year at the time. He agreed. I quit my job and went to work with him as a partner. My gut feeling was to run for the hills but instead I went along. He wanted to meet his goal in weight and I wanted my loving man back.

The lifestyle was lies, scandal and manipulation and my husband to be the mastermind behind all the mischief. He was a chameleon. Sweetest guy to everyone in the street but at home he was a monster.

Instead of bonding it was the complete opposite. He stopped wanting and giving affection. We constantly argued. He created drama and said that I was the one nagging. We had explosive arguments over the smallest things. He refused to show remorse or empathy whenever I’d tell him how his actions hurt my feelings. We saw therapists,, I wrote letters. I even created a "saddest moments of my life" list begging him to just affirm his wrong doings in many incidents. Whenever I explain to the therapist about his ways, he’d flip out afterwards in the car. During sessions, however, he remained calm. The therapist believed he was sincerely trying to help. We’re on therapist #4. It’s a man and men never understand.

The kids were getting older and also had explosive attitudes. He ridiculed and pit them against one another. Praising one child while comparing and tearing down the other. Accomplishing simple family tasks, like going to the beach, became intense battles over nothing.. This was insanity. I withdrew sexually from him before marriage and became disinterested in intimacy. After marriage, my husband also withdrew. I tried asking again what's going on. He said that it was all the fighting. I was numb as well and explained that to him. I asked for his comfort and he would rub my back. If I tried being more intimate he’d push me away. He said, once we have sex afterwards all we is fight. He said no longer sees the point of intimacy. I told him that it’ll help us to feel better and heal. I couldn’t understand how he couldn’t see my point when it was instant relief from a painful reality. He wouldn’t engage. I told him that a sexless marriage is unacceptable.

We continued making money. However, it was like watching the watching dead come to life for money!! He would also become animated around other women. He asked if we could have a threesome. I couldn’t believe his arrogance and disrespect. I told him it bothered me and he said that he’s just puffing out his chest. What the heck??! Who ARE YOU? My mind was blown. I believe I snapped and slapped him across the face. I was enraged at his tone and demeanor. It felt like he literally ripped the heart of my chest and then stomped all over it. I exploded in anger. He told me that I was overreacting and that I’m just an angry black woman who doesn't know how to be happy. I remember him being very calm while saying it but his eyes were smiling as it was a joke. It seemed like he enjoyed watching me crumble. There was no reasoning or rational to it.
I told myself: I’m his wife, I’ve been there with him through thick and thin, I work, cook his meals and raise our children. For years, he would push my buttons like this and watch me explode over and over again during arguments.

He begin to say that I have an anger management problem (stemming from childhood) and that I'm the one who needs therapy. Not him.
In the end, working with him didn't help our relationship. However, it did expose to me secrecy, lies, scandal and manipulation of his world and the mask. He believes he’s a Mastermind (his own words). I think he’s more of a chameleon. I was able to see him work first hand. He was the sweetest guy to everyone in our tennis community but at home he would turn into a monster. He became condescending and critical. I kept thinking, I thought the happiest time of my life would be once I’m married. It was happy. It was just a life filled with deceit, secrecy, sex, money, addicts, parties. All of this while I’m raising my children.

While separated, I dated a guy off of a dating site. He lived out of town. He was nice but very immature. He had just gotten out of prison. Things progressed quickly in our relationship. He moved into my apartment but we constantly argued. Then things became violent. The relationship lasted for 8 months. I decided not to date anyone else, I have horrible taste in men. I broke up with him and he moved out.

My husband, on the other hand, slept with my ex tennis partner. One of the finest, jezebels in our city. I’m not sure who fell into whose web. That’s a whole story all on it’s on. He’s unapologetic for it until this day.

FAST FWD to 18 months ago.

After the guy was gone, my husband began stopping by. He’d stop by and eat dinner. Hang out, listen to music and play games with the kids. I loved it whenever we were all together. He asked me to return home and I did. Once I returned, I thought it would be better but it wasn’t. The guy that courted me at my apartment quickly disappeared. Last year, I was officially diagnosed with clinical depression. I’m 37 years old and I'm tired of feeling exhausted all the time. Why can’t I sleep, I hardly eat and I feel shaky. I’ve developed dark circles around my eyes. Thank God for YouTube Makeup Tutorials. After watching video after video of narcissistic behavior. I’m finally able to somewhat articulate the right things to say, in order to be understood. I hope that I’m heard. He continues to flip the story and pride himself on manipulating therapist. However, in order for us to continue to be together, I required that we continue marriage counseling.

This past year, I’ve come to the realization that he’s not going to change and I have to help myself. I begin to study psychology and religion via Youtube. I love Iyanla Fix My Life and the OWN channel. I’ve started a morning routine, reading the bible and daily positive affirmations. I’ve researched videos and read books on universal laws (the law of attraction is my favorite) manifestation, self-love and affirmations, personality types, personality disorders and now narcissism. Only after watching videos of the disorder, now I’m finally able to somewhat articulate the right things to say, in order to be understood. I’m still unable to put into words my sadness.

Yesterday, I came across your videos and others regarding narcissism. It was strange to hear and see stories and descriptions of people’s experiences when their experience is so similar to my own. It was like my entire life has posted on YouTube for everyone to see. I listened to recordings of arguments between narcissistic couples and thought about my own collection. The signs and symptoms for narcissism abuse disorder is the exact framework to my story. From what I can tell, I exhibit C-PTSD and the majority of the other signs and symptoms.

At this point, I believe I’m beginning to experience some cognitive dissonance as well. I never smoke or drank before we were married. Now, I smoke marijuana every night to help me rest. I want to sleep but I can’t my mind keeps racing. I want and need it to stop.
I have so many questions and I need to talk about it all to someone.
How do I protect myself from the emotional abuser when I live with him? Am I enough to leave?